To Sleep Prechance to Dream
by drippingwithsin
Summary: When everyone is tucked away dreaming sweet dreams, Bellatrix visits her heir. [AU] [Mother/Daughter]
1. Lullaby

**AN:** Just a heads up Bella's OOC in this one and their speech is different (mainly due to me wanting to explore new things) also there is no Voldemort.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

In the pitch of the night, a child lies slumbering peacefully wrapped in the confines of black sheets and blankets. Her tiny body curled into the fetal position with arms cradling a mass of honeyed curls, one underneath a silk cloaked pillow the other lain idly atop centimetres from her face, whilst her legs bent are pulled slightly up to her chest. A picture of innocence, she sleeps onward as Morpheus weaves sweet images of dancing unicorns, chocolate frogs, and warm sunny days in her head unaware that'd she soon have company.

Black smoke seeps underneath the door first, whisping and curling against the grain then coming through in bellows until it nearly filled the room. Suddenly it begins to draw together wrapping, whirling, solidifying forming something solid, something new, something alive. The inky shadow of a figure stood formless save for the subtle outlining of its body.

Obsidian orbs glint in the full moon's light as crimson lips curl into a wicked smile. They were alone, truly completely alone. The figure approaches. And if one were looking in from the outside they'll be awaiting with bated breaths. The poor wee lamb unknowingly awaiting slaughter, yet- red teeth remain tucked away as does claws.

The beam hits the figure illuminating their entire body in a pale blue glow.

Clad in a nocturnal river of fabric that matched a wild mane of curls, Bellatrix Black seemed to be moulded to her surrounding with only her face showing against the darkness like a floating porcelain mask.

She reaches down and caresses a pale smooth cheek."My darling little heir, how I wonder what you dream of so deeply." A voice only reserved for the child beneath the Dark Lady's fingertips admits. "Doubtless it's of idle childish things, but still your queen wonders..."

A pause as she brushes a stray curl away.

"Are they of lollipops and gumdrops? Horses and laughter? Silly toys and magic? Just tell me, dear child of mine, tell me any of these sweet dreams of yours, and I shall move heaven and earth to make them true."

The girl slumbers onward and her mother sighs before finally sitting on the bed. "Vow to me you will not repeat, my daughter, but I must admit I envy you; for it has been ages since I've even dreamed at all. And though gumdrops and lollipops are sweetening your mind as we speak mine has rejected the slightest taste, I fear."

She reaches down once more and begins lightly scratching the girl's scalp.

The wee one presses into her mother's touch and smacks her lips causing Bellatrix to chuckle. "Precious Hermione, how your innocence does warm me." Onyx eyes regard the child fondly. "'Tis hard to believe such a tiny thing will one look me in the eye. And truthfully, dear daughter of mine," She lowers herself and props her jaw in hand. "I shall dread the day immensely."

Oh, how the purebloods would rain down brimstone if they came upon this scene. Their Dark Lady, Bellatrix Black of the Noble most Ancient House of Black cooing to her heir. Oh dear, oh dear, how she has softened; cooing and coddling a child like a common nursemaid. For shame.

Fools,

Does a dragoness not curl around her kits to keep them warm? Does a shewolf with muzzle stained red not gently bath her cubs with the very same mouth?

The very worst mistake those treacherous bastards could ever make is to underestimate her due to being a mother.

Circe above how she loathed them so.

Those old blooded pures who routinely sit in their ginormous homes with brandy in hand and nose toward the heavens spouting off in drawn-out stiff tones how mudbloods are stealing magic. Bah. As if they needed such magic most of them couldn't even cast a simple first-year charm. Bloody useless wastes of pure blood.

T'weren't for their galleons and blood statuses she'd have them all slaughtered like cattle.

And truthfully she'd come close a few times especially when pregnant. Barely old enough to kick in her womb and those bleeding decrepit old trolls had the absolute gall to send her daughter, flesh and blood to the most ancients, the heir of dark arranged marriage proposals.

Took all she had and a bit of talking to from Cissa not to curse the lot of them through the mail. Her daughter, much to her dismay, will marry someday but it will not be forced by her hand or anyone else's for that matter. Cygnus Black attempted to with her, despite her mother's protests and Rodulphus LeStrange wound up seriously injured in a pureblooded males most precious of parts rendering him useless for farther lines before the ring was ever placed upon her finger.

Tragedy such a..tragedy.

 _TskTsk_

She smirks even now at the memory of the snivelling arrogant boy writhing on the ground clutching his person. As if she'd ever let that near her womb. Besides the fact that she preferred the fairer sex, the LeStrange men were notorious for being pathetic worms. Her mother knew that everybody else knew that, her father for some reason choose not care.

Of course, he found reason at the end of her mother's wand. Then there were _two_ newly sterile men among the elite.

Serves the bastards right. Rosier women weren't broodmares. They did not stand idly by to be breed constantly. The only reason her mother had three is to carry on her own line. _Never forget that you are a Rosier first and Black second._ Her mother's voice echoes from the past.

None the less it still all was a bit ridiculous. This obsession with marriage and babies some purebloods had.

Can't a woman enjoy her child without such worries? Is it really so much to ask? They already grow so quickly why must they be pushed? Hermione whimpers and nuzzles closer to the heat.

The hurricane of thoughts are instantly calmed by the infantile sound and Bellatrix smiles reassuringly. "Ah do not fret, my darling, it matters nought for now just dream your dreams." She soothes, leaning down and giving a tiny forehead a loving peck.

 _To sleep perchance to dream_

Bellatrix recalls the verse from a muggle play her sister dragged her to. ' _Know thy enemy, Bella,'_ Was Cissa's excuse and though it was a good one Bellatrix had the deep overwhelming feeling that her sister had a secret love for this forbidden indulgence. Still, she said not a word. 'Twas, she begrudgingly admitted to herself, a beautiful piece.

Seems muggles had their uses after all. She thinks with amusement as she noses her daughter's curls.

Bellatrix inhales deeply and nearly purrs in contentment. The scent of sandalwood combined with a light hint of jasmine was like balm to her darkened soul. "So sweet from the inside out. I feel monstrous even being near you as if my past deeds may somehow taint thy innocence with a single touch, yet I can not stay away."

How could she when the absence of such a pure soul would send hers into utter madness? Bellatrix presses in closer even at the mere thought of such a thing, inhales, and relaxes once again.

The contented bliss, however, does not last.

For not even a tail flick later, the harsh sound of scraping rusted metal grates harshly against Bellatrix's ear as the heavy oak door is suddenly flung open. Her attention snaps to it just in time to see the bright beam of light from the entrance be immediately blocked by a figure barreling through with face and wand battle ready.

To her feet in an instant with crooked wand risen, Bellatrix meets the attacker full on.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Cease all movement or your life will be the only thing taken from this room tonight, Thief!" Threatens a familiar voice.

Moonlight combines with candle illuminating the figure.

Druella Black nee Rosier stands in its sickly glow a formidable woman. Her silken ivory hair flowing down slender shoulders into a sea of emerald fabric were only slightly dishevelled due to restlessness yet stood out in beautiful contrast as did her equally pale skin. Face far too youthful if the woman would've contained an once of muggle blood owns two gleaming sapphires that are currently regarding the dark queen with harsh suspicion.

Upon realizing the identity of the intruder, Bellatrix lowers her wand just slightly. "Mama, still your wrist and tongue 'tis only I."

"Bellatrix?" Druella squints puzzled against the gloom for a moment before relaxing her stance and scowling. "For Salazar's sakes, girl, are you trying to send me down Styx without coin?"

Full crimson lips drop open and brows scrunch together. "Me!?" Bellatrix whisper yells. "You're the one who came galloping in here like a centaur scheduled to be gelded."

Druella sniffs dismissively at the crude comment. "Yes, well, I heard voices and I thought ma petit lionne was in despair."

Her little lioness, Bellatrix inwardly scoffs. Only her mother would come up with such a name for a hatchling though she dare not say a word against it. Instead, she watches silently as the dowager walks over to the other side of the bed and turbulent blues lighten when they land on the sleeping girl.

Druella Black was/is unarguably the most dangerous vile woman one would ever have the displeasure to come across. Her deeds so malevolent in nature that some even made the dark lady shudder, yet when little Hermione was born the blood and ice melted away. Druella, the butcher, Black became Gran the kind-hearted wizened matriarch with all the temperament of a kneazle kit.

Well, within innocent chocolate eyes she remains as such. To the other more or less unfortunate souls 'the butcher' still painted the Wizarding World red with whomever dared to cross her path.

Onyx eyes roll as arms cross over breast. "Really, Mama, a thief slipped into the castle past the guards to have conversation with tea before kidnapping?"

The older woman's head snaps upward and she flashes her eldest a look that Bellatrix knows all too well from her youth. "Hold your tongue, girl, you may be queen but your backside is still open to my hand."

The Dark Lady stares back defiantly even as her lower muscles betray her by unconsciously clenching at the not so empty threat. Damn the old bat. They unlock gazes both returning to the little one who has throughout their entire exchange miraculously remains deep in slumber and has since rolled onto her stomach with all four limbs spread wide.

Bellatrix speaks once again her curiosity more of a feline's than a serpent's. "What brings you here this late in the eve? Should you not be in your bed as well?"

Druella never looks up. "Merely checking on my heir, same as you, I presume."

Dark curls needlessly nod in confirmation. "Yes,"

The older witch reaches down to caress a tiny rising and falling back. "And how does our princess sleep?"

Bellatrix's face softens immediately at the mention of her heir. "With dreams so sweet she dares not share even with her own Mama."

Druella's eyes twinkle with mirth. "Our dear heir shares everything once wake, but hoards her dreams as a dragoness does precious stones." She chuckles, the sound like firewhiskey over velvet before glances back over at Bellatrix. "Best not mention such selfishness or she'll never wander back into Morpheus' embrace willingly."

Bellatrix laughs in kind. It was said in jest but the dark queen knew it to be true. Her daughter had not an ounce of greed in her petite body.

Where did she inherit such purity? Definitely not from her that's for certain. Her other mother perhaps? Bellatrix feels a sharp ping in her chest. She knows exactly where but dares not even think of it.

Glancing up, Druella notices the familiar solemn expression and straightens before clearing her throat to capture her daughter's attention.

"Come," The older witch motions to the exit with a tilt of the head."Let us retire with a bit of brandy and leave the little dragoness to her bounty." She says with a tender smile to which Bellatrix answers with her own.

She bends down and bestows Hermione a motherly kiss on the forehead before whispering in the child's ear. "Sleep peacefully and guard thy treasures well, my sweet."

* * *

When the duo enters the drawing room another younger yet colder blonde greets them with a stiffening of the spine and a questionable glance over the rim of a wineglass.

At sight of the third Black, Bellatrix snorts and throws her hands up, strolling farther into the room. "For the love of-what is this? Christmas Eve? Shall I fetch some chocolate biscuits and milk then?"

The youngest in the room merely rolls her eyes. "Oh cease that insufferable screeching lest those bumbling idiots you call guards rush in an attempt to aid a strangling cat."

Bellatrix's plump crimson lips fall open at the sheer dry cheek sent her way and scowls. "Why you slick tongued cu-"

"Enough," The word is final and leaves no room for protest.

The room falls into silence, but when their mother turns her back to pour herself a finger's length, Bellatrix glares at her younger sister spitefully. To which Narcissa, much to the other woman's agitation, responds with a mere slight rise of the brow. Bellatrix huffs and plops rather unladylike down in the adjacent Chesterfield earning her a snort of disapproval.

One of light, the other of dark. They seem polar opposite in every way yet strikingly similar. Bellatrix's personality and presence are like an inferno; all consuming and ravenous it begins to feast the moment she enters a room and did not cease until one is left nothing but a husk of their former selves.

Narcissa's, on the other hand, though fiery like Bellatrix's contains a cold flame. One of which burned achingly slow centimetre by centimetre it consumed until finally the person unfortunate to be caught in her icy beams.

A generous tumbler of Scotland's finest is shoved under the Dark Lady's nose causing onyx eyes snap upward and Bellatrix recoils at the harsh glare. "Drink and cease that petulant behaviour." She says not a word merely takes it in her hand and does as she is told.

* * *

They sip in comfortable silence as they stare into the flames. Each pondering different things, yet all lost in their own idle thoughts that is until the sound of glass clinking against the wood draws attention to the matriarch. "I received a letter from Bulgaria this morn."

Bellatrix straightens in her chair. "Oh?"

"The _Krums_ wish to wed their youngest with our Hermione." Druella elaborates, spitting the family name out with open disdain.

The Black sisters' faces twist in a mixture of angst, disgust, and loathing. The Bulgarians were known throughout the land for dealing with ancient practices and one of them included stealing their assumed brides to be.

"When a mule foals!" The dark queen all but screeches as she slams clenched fists into the arms of her chair before opening them and digging her nails into the worn leather. "I'd soon marry my daughter off to a troll halfling then even so much is have her in the same room as those stubby cocked barbarians." She declares viciously and means it wholeheartedly. The mere thought of their meaty paws on her daughter is enough to make bile burn at the back of her throat.

"Calm thyself, my daughter, I told them as much." The matriarch soothes but contradicts it was a stern pointed look.

"And?" Bellatrix drawls out anxiously.

"I have yet to hear back from them."

"Oh isn't that just glorious." The Dark Lady spits, wrenching from her seat in a swoosh of fabric before strolling over to the liquor tray. "Keeping their tongues whilst no doubt already constructing nurseries for the litters they are already expecting my daughter to produce." She grumbles, tossing the mouth full of strong liquor back she then hurls glass across the room where it shatters against the wall.

This simply will not do. A lesson needed to be learned.

* * *

In the still of the early morn, three lone occupants sit at a modest dining table having their choice of breakfasts, which includes a feast fit for a king(or heir). Two children and one long suffering adult, they eat quietly at least for a few precious moments.

Delicately chewing on a bit of egg, a little girl turns her attention to the only adult in the room."Aunt Cissa,"

Narcissa turns away from her meal and raises a pale eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Why does Mama always sleep away the morn?" Bovine eyes shimmer curiously.

"Because-" Narcissa begins to explain when a deeper yet just as high pitched voice pipes up haughtily.

"Father says it's because she's a lazy old crone who wastes away the night frolicking about."

Narcissa head snaps around to a blonde boy and glares. "Draco! Mind your tongue!"

His mouth snaps shut and flushes red still she keeps face. She hates to be so harsh on her boy, but he needed to learn quickly the pecking order here lest Bellatrix takes his head as a souvenir. Narcissa drinks in the boy's blond hair and grey eyes he inherited from the Malfoy line and sighs. Though Black/Rosier blood ran through his veins just as thickly as young Hermione's, Draco will forever be seen as a lesser in the eyes of the family elders. Narcissa knew from the moment she found out she was with child and her mother didn't have any qualms about reminding her such either.

 _Malfoy blood taints the boy. He shall forever be weak just like the seed he sprouted from._

"You mustn't speak of your Lady that way, Draco. No matter what your Papa says." She chastises firmly and mentally curses the wretched man and her father for that matter.

"Yes, Mother." He mutters, keeping his gaze on a pile of half-eaten eggs.

Pleased by the answer, Narcissa nods and turns back to her niece whom is staring with interest. "She sleeps the morn away because her nights remain busy and dreamless, dear." She gently elaborates though she sees by the scrunched look upon small features that a farther more childish explanation is going to be needed.

"Your mother does much of her work during the waning hours and has no real time to rest then so she allows Morpheus to take her during the waking hours." Of course, she leaves out the part that includes Bella's midnight drunken 'play sessions' with the prisoners; for no child needs to know how long their mother can keep a person alive after being lashed a hundred or so times.

"Oh," Hermione dips her head seemingly satisfied. They fall back into a pleasant silence once more and Narcissa finds herself lost in a sea of sweet daydreams which include travelling to different lands and purchasing the most outrageous but undoubtedly gorgeous things. It's a ridiculous notion, but oddly one that makes her giddy.

She just bartered a sactual full of Galleons for a jewel-encrusted wand when a little voice pipes and shatters the illusion. A few blinks to clear her mind and she looks at the young ones only to find curious chocolate ones glistening back at her. She raises an inquisitive brow and a cheeky grin meets it. "May we ride today, Aunt Cissa?"

Narcissa inwardly groans. Children.

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 **AN** : Next I'll explain how Lucius wound up with Narcissa and we'll have some Bella/Hermione interaction. So how did you like my Druella? I absolutely loved writing her so I want to know. Also, suggestions on who Hermione's other mother could be? I haven't decided if I'm going to use a Harry Potter character or an OC yet.

-'When a mule foals' is an old saying which basically means the same thing as 'When Pigs Fly'. It comes from the fact mules are sterile so one getting pregnant is very unlikely.


End file.
